Borrowed Time
by thegoodgirldoll
Summary: It felt wrong now...Their time was fleeting; borrowed. It should have been them, she knew. Furthermore, she felt as though it should have been her. It had ended for so many people that night, so why should it not end for them? Why should the love and need be so evident when everyone else was ripped violently away...Why didn't she have a choice to do the same?
1. Chapter 1

Shaking…

That is all that she had been able to do. She couldn't even move to switch off the T.V. Her eyes were glued to the screen, and she couldn't tear them away from the carnage as she sat on the couch, her body trembling. Ian sat next to her quietly, wrapping an arm around her and cradling her to his chest. It was there in his arms that she finally allowed her fears to flow fast and warm down her cheeks, falling past her tank to and against her chest.

Dead…

They were all dead and there was nothing that could be done. The damage was evident; it was over. And all she could think of was them-Ian and her- and how they should have been there. They could be dead right now; they could be apart, and the reality of that shook her into submission to her depression.

"Pip?" His voice was low and hesitant, not his usual sureness.

The confidence he had in his ability to comfort her was gone because he didn't know what happens next…How do you recover from Death claiming your own peers? Almost claiming you?

"Pip?" He asked firmer, his normal forcefulness back.

Her eyes moved to meet his slowly.

"I heard you the first time." She spoke quietly.

Ian swallowed thickly and nodded.

"What can I do?"

Erin shrugged and shook her head.

"I didn't even know the bastards, Ian, and you hated them, so what?"

Ian furrowed his eyebrows and forced her head against his chest as gently as possible, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles.

"Why do you get so pissed when you're upset?"

"You act like I can help it," she scowled. "I can't, so back off."

Ian immediately released his hold on her and nodded mutely before standing.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled sadly. "I know you need space."

He turned immediately and retreated to their bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft _click. _

Erin heaved a heavy sigh and ran a hand through her hair. Her fingers shook and she clutched at the strands to try and steady herself, but it was no use. Her body was in disarray and her thoughts were in turmoil.

Ian took a seat on the edge of the bed and let his head fall into his hands. Massaging his temples, he tried desperately to clear his head.

Dead.

The word had never held meaning to him before. No one close to him had ever died; no one that he knew or saw often. It was a harsh word, really: dead or gone; deceased. It was bad enough for older people who _had _to kick the bucket…But this young? Kids who were ready to graduate; in their prime? They hadn't deserved this, and even Ian had to agree with that.

It wasn't normal to go through this trauma at the age of eighteen. It wasn't acceptable for Death to come and take students from their school and then expect the student body to move on and live.

But live for what? Wait for what? Another tragedy? Another freak accident, or shooting, or disease? What was the point of ever being alive in the first place with one chain of events causing another and another, until everyone you knew and loved is gone?

Ian's throat constricted tightly and sudden desperation gripped at his mind.

Erin.

He had to keep her safe at all costs.

If he ever lost her…

His bottom lip trembled and he bit down on it hard. He couldn't sit on this bed alone and give her pace' pretend she didn't exist for an hour. He needed to be by her side constantly. They were all enduring so much loss. People were wondering only on what could have happened in the future; how their marriages and lives would have been with the boyfriends and girlfriends; sisters and brothers that were killed. Ian knew that he couldn't take any of the time that he had been blessed with her for granted.

He stood shakily, ignoring the jelly feeling in his legs and moving to open the door. He saw the back of her against the couch, her beautiful auburn curls cascading against the back of the couch. He smiled slightly in response to the beauty that was in front of him and walked quietly over to her. When he was only a few inches from the couch, he rested his fingertips on her shoulder and bent down to kiss the side of her neck.

"Erin," Her name, not a pet name was spoken into her ear; his warm breath on her neck as he whispered to her. "Please let me in."

His asking this was routine- he always did- because she never wanted to open up. She always hid behind her angry scowl or contorted smile; her fake smile. The beauty of them wasn't that he was the only one she divulged everything too, because he wasn't: she didn't divulge anything to him. The beauty of them was that the fake smile she put on for the world was bought by every single person… Except him.

She turned to face him, sitting crisscross on the couch and looking up into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered weakly, taking his hands into her own. "I just don't know how to start-"

"-the conversation, I know."

"Everything feels-"

"-wrong, I know. Saying 'I love you' feels wrong because so many couples can't say it anymore. Saying 'I need you' is wrong because what if we really were forced to live without? Saying 'I'm thankful for you' is just…So wrong because…what if I didn't have you? They don't have each other anymore… So why do I have a right to be happy? I know how you feel, Erin, I do."

She nodded and swallowed thickly, and Ian noticed the tears that were pooling in the corners of her eyes.

"I feel like we don't have a right to be happy at all. I feel wrong to smile."

Ian shook his head.

"I know that's how it feels, but it isn't wrong, I promise."

Erin closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the couch as the tears flowed from her eyes.

"Just hold me." She spoke through muffled sobs.

"Every day," he promised moving to sit on the couch next to her and pull her into his arms. "Every single day."


	2. Chapter 2

Ian stood under the warm water leisurely, watching Erin through the glass of the shower as she brushed the tangles from her hair. She was staring at herself in the mirror with a vacancy that Ian had seen many times before. She was thinking; stuck in her emotions… Scared. The bathroom was steamy and hot and the beads of water clung to the skin that was exposed from her tank top and sleep shorts not covering her body. Ian smiled softly, but ignored anything sexual as he turned back to grab his bar of soap. So many couples weren't together- Erin was right- and it felt wrong to be happy. It felt wrong to love; lust.

"Zip, is my lotion in there?" She called loud enough for him to hear, but still as quiet as possible.

"Yeah, Pip," He responded, grabbing it and sliding the glass back to hold it out to her. "Why was _lotion _in the shower?"

"I like applying it right after I shave," she smiled slightly before replacing it with her normal, tight-lipped scowl and taking the tube from him. "Thank you."

He stared at her momentarily before shaking his head and shutting the glass door once again. As he finished rinsing his hair, he tried desperately to keep his eyes open, seeing as whenever he closed them gruesome images of the blood and gore of the accident flashed through his mind's eye.

When he finally turned the water off, he shivered for a second and grabbed his towel quickly, drying his hair a bit before rubbing the white, fluffy fabric over his lower body and wrapping it around himself. When he had stepped out of the shower, Erin handed him the lotion and turned to exit the bathroom.

"Put that back on the shelf for me." She spoke curtly over her shoulder before leaving the room completely.

Ian heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head, placing the lotion back in the shower and sliding the door shut. She was completely standoffish and he didn't know what to do. Normally, he knew how to handle her, but no kiss after a shower? No running her hands through his wet hair and joking about it not having pounds of gel? That wasn't normal; that was something she _always _did…Even when things were tough.

"Erin?" He called out, walking into their bedroom and letting go of his attempt to give her space.

"What?" She asked quietly from her seat at his desk.

He couldn't help but smirk at how she was sitting, with one leg crossed over the other, and her arms around her leg, keeping it in place as she painted a thick coat of black on her toes.

"You look like a contortionist." He scoffed before laughing quietly.

"Don't make fun," she warned. "This is to your benefit, isn't it?"

He shook his head and came to sit on the floor in front of her, kissing the bottom of her foot gently before looking up at her.

"You're disgusting." She spoke in mock hatred.

He rolled his eyes and tried to keep up with the sudden change in her mood.

"You know you can talk to me, don't you?" He asked as softly as possible; trying to avoid breaking down her barriers as opposed to her letting them down for him. It wouldn't do him any good.

"I know that." She stated absentmindedly, dipping the brush back into the polish before continuing to paint over the bare nails.

"Then why won't you?" He asked a bit more forcefully, immediately regretting his tone of voice.

"Because I don't fucking want to." She spat, standing angrily and shoving the polish into the trash can.

"Erin, you've got to be kidding me," He practically shouted, standing from the floor and following her into the living room. "In all our years of being together you have n_ever _pushed me out _this _much. Is it _that _impossible for you to tell me how you feel now? What the hell did I do?"

"You didn't do anything, Ian," she responded, keeping her back turned to him as she leaned against the counter. "It's this whole accident; this whole sick nightmare, and you know it. It's so stupid for you to think it was you. Why the hell would you think that?"

"Now you're pulling the me being an idiot card? Whatever, Erin."

She turned to look at him them, and just before he had turned around as well, she caught his gaze and her eyes bore into his, displaying every hurt and every fear that she had ever held.

"I'm definitely going to open up to your bitchy statement of whatever." She mused quietly, staring down at the floor and kicking the leg of the chair that was next to her.

"Erin, I'm sorry."

"'I'm sorry'? Those are the shittiest two words you could ever come up with. They mean nothing. At all those funerals this weekend, people will be saying 'I'm sorry'. It doesn't bring back their loved ones, it doesn't change the circumstances, and it sure as hell doesn't take away the hurt. Take your sorry somewhere else."

She shoved past him then, grabbing her black coat and walking to the front door.

"Where are you going?" He sighed, running his hand over his face tiredly.

"Out. Don't wait up." She responded before exiting the house and slamming the door shut behind her.

For a moment, he stood there, considering giving her the space he really should have provided her all along, but after only a moment's time, he grabbed his coat as well and followed after her. He knew she wanted nothing more than to be alone right now, but it wasn't his job to always give her what she wanted; it was his job to keep her safe…

Especially now.


	3. Chapter 3

Ian gripped the steering wheel tightly as he surveyed the street. It had been an hour since Erin had decided she needed time alone, and an hour since he had been driving around town, looking at all of her favorite spots for her. She was nowhere that she would normally be, though, and he was beginning to worry. She never acted this way. Of course, no situations such as this had befallen them before- nothing this gruesome- and she was hurting, but to react this way? To push him away when he was all she had right now; when they should be thankful to have one another? It wasn't right, and he didn't know what to do to change her mind about how she was treating him. He supposed her defense mechanism was too push him away, but the thought of her shutting him out like this frightened him.

There was really nothing he could do to make her react differently, he knew, but it was his job to still _try _and be there for her; to _attempt _to get her to open up. It wouldn't be that hard, would it? She _always _ended up confiding in him…He just needed to find her. He slammed on the breaks as the light before him changed suddenly to red and he cursed quietly under his breath. He was becoming frustrated quickly; all he wanted to know was where she was. Why would she do this? Continuing on the road, going ten to fifteen above the speed limit, he searched the side of the roads, he wondered where else he could look that she might like or want to go. He racked his brain for answers, but there were none. There were no links. She wasn't anywhere she had been in the past; she was acting like his Erin.

It took him another thirty minutes of looking before he turned his head sharply to the right as he was stopped at a stop sign, and saw a shadowy, hooded figure slumped on the ground at the edge of a darkened alley that was close by their apartment. Ian's heat broke as he shook his head and made a quick turn into the alley, shinning the headlights on the figure before him. To avoid hurting her eyes, he quickly turned off the lights, and he slid his keys in his pocket as he shut the door and walked over to her. She looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks and leftover mascara running from her eyelashes.

"You could have stayed with me you know," he mused, cutting right to the chase and taking a seat by her on the broken, graveled road. "You chose instead to come out in the biting cold, with darkness surrounding you, in pajamas and a trench coat."

"You've made quite a point." She mumbled sullenly, staring into his eyes for a long while before averting her gaze to the ground.

"Hey," he shook his head, placing his fingers under her chin and lifting her gaze to meet his once more. "Pip."

She stared into his eyes once more at that form of endearment and blinked rapidly a few times to stop any other stray tears from falling. Ian smiled slightly and held out his arms to her, and to his surprise, she curled into them with no objection and no hesitation. With a gentle squeeze of her arm, he folded her against him and placed a gentle kiss on top of her head.

"You had me worried sick," he chided quietly. "You should have stayed with me."

"I know," she responded, her voice chocked slightly on the tears that remained ready to flow. "I'm sorry."

She was too weak to muster anything else; to hard set on feeling sorry for herself and depressed to really care what he thought right now. All she knew was that on top of this emotional pain, she couldn't have him angry at her too. Her frame of mind was altered, and she wanted him to realize that she hadn't meant to turn from the one person she always turned to. She believed that he understood by the way he continued cradling her to his chest, and she sighed quietly into his embrace, biting back the last round of tears that threatened to spill over.

"Come home with me." He spoke gently, taking her hand in his own.

"I don't want to go back right now," she shook her head slightly. "Sit with me; watch the stars."

Her gaze was vacant again as she looked up, watching the black of the sky unfold in a beautiful, vast blanket of velvet charcoal speckled with glistening stars.

"Stargaze?" He asked with a grin.

"That's all I want," she replied, sitting up from his embrace slightly. "I just want to feel like I'm out of this universe…for one second; away from the pain and fear. Please don't leave me."

"I won't," he whispered against her ear. "I never will."


End file.
